Normally this would not be anything special, but he happens to be of a certain age which I’m sure he will disinherit me if I write. Suffice to say he is closer to 100 than 50. Much closer. I am extremely proud of him and proud to be listed as his daughter (Facebook very kindly informed me via an update that I am his daughter). Not only is he Internet-savvy but, he helpfully informed me when I was laid out with my bad back, he has never had any back problems at all. And neither has my mother.
Anyway, next time you log in, check out him and his very elegant photo; he is called Benedetto Benedetti.
Meanwhile I have been in touch with three old boyfriends all called Tim in the space of a week. Two of whom I have seen here. I was sent to interview one in Dubai a few days ago, he has become a best-selling writer. The other one is in the oil business and passing through. The third one wrote to me on facebook with some very sad news about his wife (see post further down).
What does this say about me? That I am obsessed with the name Tim? That I have very little imagination when it comes to men?
And I wonder when the fourth one will pitch up? Or maybe there are other Tims lurking that I have forgotten about….
Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2010